


Bella Notte

by Wonko



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Related, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/pseuds/Wonko
Summary: When Bernie discovers that Serena didn't go on holiday, she decides to bring Italy to her.





	Bella Notte

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kooili](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooili/gifts).



> Takes place in the days following S18E46 - Fractured.

Bernie tore open the takeaway sandwich and bit into it without even looking at it. Her eyes were on the iPad in Raf’s hands as she chewed. Suddenly she winced, her mouth curling in displeasure as she looked around for a bin. Raf raised his eyebrow as she carefully spat out the half chewed mouthful then grabbed the packaging and began to inspect it, like it was a new recruit and its boots were insufficiently shiny.

“Past its sell by date?” he guessed with a small smile.

She shook her head. “Mayonnaise,” she grunted. “I didn’t even notice when I picked it up.” She threw the remaining sandwich in the bin. “Why is it so impossible to buy a sandwich without that engine coolant spread all over it?”

“Oh, I know this,” Raf said, his voice chipper. “The sandwiches are made by machine, and mayonnaise is easier for them to spread than butter.”

Bernie blinked slowly. “Right,” she said. “Okay. Interesting factlet, Mr Di Lucca. Let’s look at Mrs McKay’s test results, shall we?”

After reading through the results and ordering a few follow up tests, she crossed over to Serena’s side of the office and started rummaging through her drawers. “She usually keeps a stash of emergency snacks in here,” she explained to a curious looking Raf. “Aha!” She pulled her hand from the drawer, holding a packet of plain rice cakes aloft like a prize from the funfair.

“Not the most interesting lunch ever,” Raf said.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she replied, biting into one with a crunch. “I barely have time to eat anyway. I’ll be glad when Serena gets back from her little jaunt to Italy.”

She deliberately avoided the obvious direction her mind was trying to push her in - that she’d missed more than Serena’s presence on the ward or in theatre, that her heart beat a little faster when she thought of Serena stepping into their office on Monday, that Cameron had been right when he’d said she looked at her like more than a friend.

She was so busy curating her thoughts she almost missed Raf’s small frown. “Didn’t you know?”

Bernie swallowed her mouthful of dry rice cake. “Know what?”

Raf winced. “Her daughter cancelled on her at the last minute. I think she was going to go anyway, but then Evie’s case got a bit complicated…” He trailed off, shrugging. “I think she said she was going to spend the week in her back garden.”

“Oh…” Bernie felt her heart clench in sympathy. She of all people knew what it was like to have a less than ideal relationship with your grown up children. Charlotte had only recently started acknowledging her texts again, after several months of pointed silence.

“Aye, it was a bit of a sore one,” Raf continued. “Elinor’s a bit flaky at the best of times, but dropping out of a free week at an Italian spa…” He shook his head and shrugged.

An idea began to form in Bernie’s head. “Raf,” she said slowly. “You’re from an Italian family…”

Raf looked down at his name badge that read  _ Raffaello di Lucca, Registrar, Holby City NHS Trust.  _ “What gave me away?” he said, smirking.

Bernie grinned. “Maybe you can help me out…”

* * * * *

Serena listlessly flicked through the recorded programmes on her Sky+ box, looking for anything that wasn’t a quiz show or a historical documentary. Jason was visiting Alan for the evening, so she was alone in the house for the first time all week. She’d been looking forward to it, but now that it was upon her it felt like the empty evening was laid out before her like a long, straight road with no end in sight. She glanced at her phone sitting on the sofa beside her. Elinor hadn’t rung or texted all week. Sian was away in Mykonos with her latest toyboy. There wasn’t really anyone else she felt like calling.

Except…

She scrolled through her recent conversations and found her message thread with Bernie. There wasn’t much since what she’d mentally dubbed The Cameron Incident the other week: mostly work related back and forths, the odd offer to collect coffee or lunches from one or the other. Nothing personal, and nothing since she’d been on leave.

She hadn’t told Bernie she’d been around all week. She wasn’t sure why. Lingering awkwardness, perhaps, or just wanting to let them both get some distance from everything. But she was tired of it now - tired of this space between her and the woman who’d come to mean so much to her, both at work and in her life. Her co-lead, her equal, her dearest friend. 

A small smile spread over her lips as she tapped out a message.

_ Was ditched by Elinor for a better offer, so I’ve been at home this week. Jason’s away for the evening - fancy coming round for a takeaway and a vat of Shiraz? _

She glanced at the time. Bernie’s shift had ended an hour ago, if there hadn’t been any trauma calls, so she’d probably respond quite soon. If she hadn’t let her phone run out of charge or left it in her locker, which was something she did on occasion.

She continued scrolling through the Sky+ box, but gave up when the doorbell rang five minutes later. She wasn’t expecting anyone - Bernie hadn’t texted back yet - but was more than ready to run verbal rings around any local politicians, salespeople or God-botherers who might have fetched up on her doorstep.

“I don’t believe in God, I vote Lib Dem and I’m fine for double glazing, thanks,” she rhymed off as she opened the door.

Bernie blinked on the doorstep. “Okay,” she said, then frowned. “Lib Dem? Even after the coalition?”

“It’s tactical,” Serena replied, waving the comment away. “That was fast. You must have been in the area.”

“What?”

“I texted you,” Serena said. “Maybe five minutes ago? I didn’t think I’d even get a reply so quickly, never mind a visit.”

Bernie pulled her phone out of her jeans pocket. Serena’s eyes followed her motion and lingered on her legs. Oh, it should be illegal for a woman of their age to look so good in skinny jeans. Criminal.

“Oh,” Bernie said, frowning at her phone. “It was on silent.” Her face brightened as she read the text. “But it seems like we’re of one mind.”

Serena finally noticed the picnic basket sitting on the step by Bernie’s feet. She recognised one of the bottles poking out of the top of it as a rather nice Italian Shiraz from M&S. “I like the look of that,” she said, smiling.

“Ah, well, a little bird told me you didn’t make it to Italy so I thought I could bring Italy to you.” Bernie nodded down at the picnic basket. “We’ve got bruschetta and caprese salad and a selection of prosciutto that Raf tells me is very nice, and a few other things. And tiramisu for afters.” She shrugged. “All from M&S, so you needn’t fear food poisoning.” She fidgeted on the doorstep, unnerved by Serena’s unblinking stare. “What? Is it too much?”

Serena shook her head. “No,” she said, then cleared her throat to hide the roughness caused by tears pricking behind her eyes. “Not at all.” She stepped back into the hall, making room for Bernie. “Come in, please.” She smiled.

Serena found an old tartan blanket and collected some cushions while Bernie retrieved plates and glasses and cutlery. Late afternoon was just shading into evening. The day had been hot and the residual heat from the now dipping sun was extraordinarily pleasant. Serena laid the blanket and cushions out on the grass of her back garden, then immediately turned to the wine while Bernie spread the food out.

“I’ll just let it breathe for a minute,” she said, before turning her attention to a piece of bruschetta covered in tomato and basil. She lowered her voice to a purr that would have made Nigella Lawson blush. “These are not just any Italian finger foods...these are M&S Italian finger foods.” She was so enamoured with her own little joke that she didn’t notice the slight shiver that thrilled down Bernie’s spine, and when she looked up again, her friend’s face was a picture of nonchalance.

The food was good and the wine was better and the evening, as evenings do, steadily wore on into night. By the time the last drop had been poured from the last bottle, Serena was feeling pleasantly warm and a little giggly. She’d arranged the cushions on the blanket so they could both lean back against them and look up at the sky to watch the stars come out.

“I used to love looking up at the stars when I was on tour,” Bernie said quietly, after there’d been a brief natural break in the conversation. “Out there in the desert, hours from the nearest artificial light, the nights were so dark and clear. It really felt like you could see forever.”

“Hmmm,” Serena hummed in agreement. “My father was a bit of an amateur astronomer,” she said. “He taught me all the proper names of the stars, how far away they were, what size they are in relation to us.” She let out a rueful chuckle. “Forgotten most of it.”

Bernie turned her head to look at Serena’s profile. “I can just imagine you out in the back garden with a telescope, making copious notes on astronomical phenomena.”

Serena barked out a laugh. “Something like that,” she admitted, then scooted closer. She wrapped her arm around Bernie’s shoulder and pointed up at the sky. “There, do you see Orion?” she asked. “Most easily recognised by the three stars that form the belt.”

Bernie’s breath had caught in her throat at the touch of Serena’s hand. She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes,” she said, her voice a little raspy. Serena didn’t seem to notice.

“Follow the line of the belt down and left,” she murmured, tracing the line through the air with her finger. “See that clump of bright stars?”

Bernie forced herself to look away from Serena’s face. She gazed up at the sky, her eyes following the line Serena had described until she found what she was looking for. “Yes,” she said.

“Those are the pleiades,” Serena said softly, as if she’d disturb the stars by talking too loudly. “The brightest star cluster in the night sky. Beautiful…”

“Yes,” Bernie agreed, but she was no longer looking at the sky. Slowly, ready to be rebuffed at any second, she brought her arm up and curled it round Serena’s shoulders.

Serena sighed in contentment, letting her head fall onto Bernie’s shoulder and dropping her own arm down to rest between them. “This is nice,” she breathed. For a moment they simply lay together, breathing slow and deep, finding a comfortable way to press their sides together. “This is what I miss about having a partner,” Serena said, when the silence had drawn out long enough. “Being held. Feeling safe in someone’s arms.” She bit her lip. “Sorry, is that too much?”

Bernie shook her head. “Nothing you feel is ever too much,” she whispered.

Serena sighed in reply, letting her hand come up to rest on Bernie’s stomach. Bernie pulled her a little closer, her heart beating fast and steady against her ribs.

“I never liked being held,” she said quietly. “I always found it confining. Marcus used to want to fall asleep with his arms around me. I hated it. I used to wait until he fell asleep so I could wriggle free.” 

She felt Serena move against her and tightened her hand around her shoulder to soothe her back into relaxation. “It turns out, what I miss about having a partner is this. Holding her. Making her feel safe and cherished.”

Serena breathed deeply through her nose. The faint scent of Bernie’s perfume flowed through her, along with next door’s freshly mown grass and the remnants of someone’s barbecue smoke. Her mouth felt dry and her heart was beating an erratic rhythm that she recognised all too well. It was unexpected. But, she decided after a moment’s thought, not unwelcome. She looked up into Bernie’s face, staring at the line of her jaw and the curve of her lips and her scattered moles and freckles. She was beautiful. She’d always known that, but now she felt it.

Bernie felt her scrutiny and looked down. Their eyes met, starlight dancing between them, and Serena could do nothing but lean forward and kiss her.

Bernie let out a low noise of surprise and might have pulled away if not for Serena’s hand which was threading into her hair and pulling her closer. Their lips tangled together slowly, soft and gentle and only a little hesitant. When they stopped to breathe, Serena was the first to lean back in for a second taste. The flavour of wine and basil and something else, something sweet and new and ineffable, washed over her like a wave. She realised with startling clarity that she’d remember this every time she smelled cut grass, every time she tasted basil, every time she touched the soft silk of Bernie’s hair.

“Oh,” she breathed when they parted at last. “I had no idea…”

Bernie’s breath was coming in short gasps. “Serena,” she said, her voice tight and verging on panic. “Is this...are you...are we…”

Serena silenced her with another kiss, firmer and surer this time. “Relax, darling,” she murmured against her lips. “I’m okay, you’re okay.” She kissed her again, then pulled back to meet her eyes. “The world can go round.”

Watching Bernie’s face slowly relax was one of the most beautiful sights Serena had ever seen. She felt her heart clench with affection for her best and dearest friend, and now so much more. Indescribably more.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” Bernie admitted with a small smile, drawing Serena’s eyes once more to her lips.

“I’m so glad I didn’t go to Italy,” she said, and then they were kissing again, slowly and languorously, their legs tangling together on the blanket. Unnoticed and unheeded, the stars twinkled silently on.

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my wife because I proposed while we were looking at the stars and every fandom I've written for since has had a stargazing fic. This one's for you, darling.


End file.
